Castiel Angel of the Lord is Confused by Humanity
by Taylor Hayes
Summary: Series of drabbles focused mainly on Castiel and his reactions to everyday things. First chapter: Cas has been watching tv. Dean is not amused. Sam, however, is.
1. What Cas Learned from Daytime TV

**What Cas Learned from Daytime TV**

It was all Oprah's fault.

That was the only thing Dean could think as he took in Castiel's intent expression with horror. Sam, on the other hand, was hiding behind his laptop, silently laughing hard enough that his entire, gigantic frame was helplessly shaking.

"Wh-_what?_"

"Your eyelashes look exceptionally nice today, Dean."

He had figured catching Cas watching the crazy black lady would be as bad as it got. He'd failed to take into account the episode's "life lesson".

"_Complimenting the important people in your life will show them that you care for them._"

Dean groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. "No more daytime tv, Cas."

The angel's brow furrowed in confusion, before he turned towards the younger brother. "And Sam, your skin is a very pleasing tone."

Yup, all Oprah's fault. Damn her.


	2. Humans Are Unappreciative

**Humans Are Unappreciative**

"Dude, you, uh- You've got _wings_."

"Shut up!"

Dean was stretched, face-forward, across the back seat in the Impala. A set of enormous, golden-brown appendages twitched and fluttered and rustled in the air above his back, where they were sprouted from his shoulder blades.

Shirtless, face in his hands, Dean was considering the whole lousy set-up yet more proof that _angels were dicks._ He was considering making it a personal motto, maybe getting a tat to remind himself any time he ever started to think the winged douchebags could maybe help them out.

Which was when Cas appeared in the backseat, his weight abruptly crashing atop Dean's legs and his primary flight feathers.

"_CAS!_"

Blinking in shock, the heavenly messenger half jumped up, staring. The angel's expression betrayed the clearest emotion either Winchester had ever seen: pure, unadulterated disbelief.

"_Cas!_ Get the hell _off_, dude!"

Flinching back, there was the familiar sound of wind and wings before Cas reappeared in the passenger seat. Only he looked like a child, kneeling and facing backwards, hands clutched over the top of the seat, blue eyes enormous as he full-on gawked at the older hunter.

"Dean." His gravelly voice was breathless and reverentially quiet. "You have _wings_."

"I_ know!_" the man shot back angrily. "That dickbag Zachariah showed up and made 'em freaking sprout outta my goddamn _back!_"

A familiar head tilt, before the normal expression slipped back onto Cas' face, an annoying combination of unconcerned and accepted smoothing his features. "Then surely it is my Father's will."

"_I don't care!_" was the furious response. "Just get 'em _off!_"

"I cannot do that, Dean," came the angel's calm response, as he turned to face forward again.

"_I HATE ANGELS!_"

"No, seriously Dean, dude… You have _wings_."

"SHUT UP SAMMY!"


	3. Kites are Implausible

**Kites are Implausible**

As Sam scooped up two kids and Dean grabbed the other, Castiel found a tight string thrust into his hand.

The Winchesters took off, running across the children's park towards the Impala, and away from the vengeful spirit tied to the swing set.

Castiel remained in place, knowing no mere ghost could affect an angel of the Lord. His gaze was fixed on the fabric diamond floating in the air, tugging on the string he held as it bounced in the breeze.

"But… it has no wings."

"_CAS!_"


	4. Absent Fathers

**Absent Fathers**

Without ever seeing Castiel's thoughts or hearing his hopes, Dean was still all too aware of the heavenly messenger.

He understood Cas, because, in so many ways, Cas w_as_ Dean. A young Dean who had more faith in a distant and demanding father than was reasonable. He obeyed because, in his mind, there was no other choice.

Then came the moment Castiel finally realized God had washed his hands of the world. That was where the similarities to Dean ended, as he was overcome by all the anger and disbelief and hurt and offense of a teenage Sam.

And still, Dean _knew_ every thought and emotion that traveled through Castiel. He had spent too many years knowing and loving and protecting his brother.

Nothing Castiel could think or feel was a surprise to Dean. And he had no idea how to help.

Winchesters knew how to save and defend and kill. But they had no idea how to fix a betrayed trust or a broken angel.

And watching himself, watching Sammy, watching Castiel, the only emotion Dean could name was helpless pity.


End file.
